I have witnessed festivals all over the world

From the Bulls of Pamplona to the glittering swirl

Of the crowds in New Orleans on Mardi Gras Day.

And they all were impressive, each in its way.

But, by far the most impressive of all

Wasn’t on a foreign plaza or the DC Mall.

It was the heartfelt joy of a dear old friend

Saying, “I’m glad you’re safely home again.”

But what of the men who will never see

Glad faces like the ones that welcomed me;

Men who for thirty long years and more

Have been locked behind their captors' doors?

There are some who’d rather turn away

And forget those men who were willing to pay

With their lives and their youth for democracy.

Weren't those men also fighting to stay free?

Observe the politicians who were never there

To fight for their country and really don't care

That some who did have never come home -

That they've been abandoned to suffer alone;

They speak of patriotism with puffed up chests

While surreptitiously feathering their nests.

Our forsaken men surely wonder why

Their country has callously left them to die.

Bleak yesterdays become hopeless tomorrows,

With nothing ahead but more days of sorrow,

What do they care about pageantry

And homecoming festivals across the sea?

So, shall we just shrug and let them be

A shameful footnote in our history?

July 2002

See Glitter in the Sun, by Faye Sizemore